


The Empire You Built (I'll Make My Home)

by Star Page (Pageofstars)



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Stock Market, Businessmen!AU, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29593308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pageofstars/pseuds/Star%20Page
Summary: “So let me get this straight. You caused more than eighty billion dollars combined in losses to multiple companies.” Hermes could see the vein twitching across Athena’s temple sitting across from each other. They were located in Athena’s office, her iridescent blue manicured nails seeming more threatening as she waved a hand in his direction before returning it to the conference table between them, tapping in a threatening manner.Hermes clicked his tongue, mildly disappointed at the number. Only seven zeros?  Honestly, with the fuss they were seeing in the media he had thought he'd top at least a trillion.If looks could kill he would already be sprouting daisies.“Hermes you bankrupt four companies!” Her voice raised, her tone gaining a dangerous edge that reminded him of their shared stepmother. It was as if she was trying to cram an entire lecture into each word, willing Hermes to see her frustration and anger in the situation.He saw it, but he didn’t care.“Yeah, but I got a date out of it.”
Relationships: Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	The Empire You Built (I'll Make My Home)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Starlings! 
> 
> Welcome to the background story of Pretty Bird as promised. I am still so flattered that people enjoyed my first fic, so here is the full story behind that AU - fleshed out into a multi-chapter adventure. 
> 
> Catch me on the bird app: starpagenotes

Nine Minutes in until the shower water runs cold. 

Hermes had his morning routine before work down to an exact science that understood the limits of his tiny apartment's water heater. 

Freedom from his family meant sacrifice, and he was okay with that. 

Wild and independent, Hermes had no desire to be chained down to his father's businesses. Their relationship was difficult for a multitude of reasons, but Zeus' control issues were one of the top. He didn't care for his children's desires, and would instead dictate every aspect of their life. 

Currently, because Hermes wasn't doing what Zeus wanted, he automatically assumed he wasn't busy. 

Sure, Hermes had graduated from college a handful of years ago, but he hadn’t found that ‘career’ he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Likely he never would. He was too much of a wanderer. Just because he wasn't running a business that turned a profit like Dionysus didn't mean he had free time. Honestly, he doubted he’d ever locate a job that he would want to keep at for the rest of his life - let alone be a pencil pusher trapped behind a desk every day.

He took the last few years off post-graduation using the excuse to find himself. His father took that as a sign he was going to run around sowing his seed everywhere much to his disgust- Hermes had wanted to punch him. Putting as much distance as possible between himself and his old man, he kept Zeus at arm's length. He could have a better place and be allowed the freedom of his father's money; the only stipulations being that he would join the family business once his "wild side" was worked out of his system. Since he hadn’t wanted to live the life of a lapdog like his half-siblings, he promptly told his dad to suck it and left the estate. From there Hermes found an apartment and paid for it by pulling more hours in a job he picked up during college to pay for things he didn’t want his dad to know about. 

Well to say the delivery job afforded him his place was a half-truth. Playing the stock market had been an easy pastime for him during his senior year of college, and something to do with the money he earned. It was after growing up around greedy tyrants like Zeus all his life he knew how to navigate the money swamp. He resolved to use their insider knowledge against them in their own game- and hit big on a short-selling stock spree. This earned him a savings level of relative comfort.

At current he was keeping his eye on the market for another opportunity. Though there was still some time before his next romp in the market, he knew it was inevitable. The rush and payout had been too sweet to pass up another run. 

His one-bedroom apartment while not luxurious by any means, but fulfilled Hermes needs. He could happily say he paid for it on his own, no daddy money attached, unlike Dionysus who lived in the main house with their father, though he didn't seem to mind too much. By living together, he lived on the property in his own home their father let him custom build. 

Dio did have an amazing wine business, Hermes would give him that. Unfortunately, like anything within the Olympus brand, credit went to Zeus in the end, making the success bittersweet. 

That being said even with his talent, stocks outside of a firm weren't the most reliable thing to earn a steady income on. To supplement the uneven payouts, Hermes had worked his delivery job with Psychopomp Express handling high-priority mail. These deliveries were specific to high-end clients needing priority delivery for their supplies. Often they were handling goods like lab tests or perishables. What made it fun to Hermes was the variety though - because you never knew what you’d be moving. This included the occasional livestock, which always led to a pleasant experience for Hermes. This job - it was never dull. Often they would get requests for more personalized transfers. Groceries, clothing, he had even seen a few cars be passed by some of the more senior members of staff. 

Taking the job for the past few years had been a good way for him to earn some cash while also using it as an excuse to avoid his father's company. Zeus couldn’t force him to do anything if he was making his own money. He had learned to be perfectly happy staying under the radar and profiting off whales too bloated on their own money to know the price of a damn box of cereal.

He was restless.

Hermes was looking for something, he just had no idea what that _something_ he wanted was yet. But he knew his father’s business wasn’t the answer. Until he figured it out, he would continue going through life by his own rules. He was always in a rush, but he understood how to bide his time. He wasn’t living in luxury like he was when he was younger, but he at least felt like he was accomplishing something. 

He wasn’t just the youngest child from a dead mistress. He mattered. 

\---

Entering into Psychopomp Express right at 5am on the dot, Hermes immediately knew something was wrong. What was usually a flurry of delivery grunts milling around while preparing for their respective routes was instead stopped. All heads were turned towards the back of the complex past the employee locker area where management lurked. The heated voice of one of the bosses was overheard as far as the breakroom, though the exact conversation contents were too muffled to catch. He didn’t expect an answer from any of his coworkers, so he opted to push down his curiosity for the moment to prepare for his shift. 

Darting to his locker Hermes swiftly keyed in his code and dumped his items into the standard metal prison. Already dressed in the pristine soft yellow polo shirt, he smoothed down the imaginary wrinkles in the mirror he kept hanging within, mildly grimacing at the gaudy bold red letters across his chest. The collar of the polo had the same red that also trimmed the bottom of the shirt. His shorts hung just above his knees were the corresponding red, finishing off the signature delivery boy look.

By the time he finished checking his reflection, he heard a door slam. It was like a spell broke. Immediately everyone returned to their prior activities, Hermes himself glancing around the blank faces as if to ask what was up. Another door banged and very quickly someone bolted past him towards the employee exit without so much of a word. 

It was very rare for the even-tempered management to have any type of shouting match. So the turn of events rattled the hornets' nest of gossips in the office. He was ready to shrug it off as unimportant, making his way to the main part of the building to the sorting carts to get his routes packages. He would hear the story later.

“Hermes! The boss needs you!” He was caught by a coworker before he could reach his port, them looking almost nervous flagging him down. He couldn't remember their name, the person being one of the newer recruits. 

Several scenarios flashed through his head., but based on the sequence of events he had a hunch about what they needed exactly. He wanted to say no even before they asked, but he had no choice and he was aware of this fact. 

Reluctantly he made his way to the back offices, the usual playful smile curled on his lips not giving up the annoyance that was flooding his thoughts. It was time for him to clean up another mess. 

\---

They changed his route to an executive account that two senior postal aids had fucked up. Hermes needed to start the route _immediately,_ and he absolutely _could not mess this up._ He would have laughed if the situation was happening to anyone else, but he took it as a compliment that he had become such a reliable worker that they selected him over the remaining senior staff. 

Hermes arrived a little before 7 am in the signature yellow delivery truck. 

Cthonic Industries was tremendous. When his manager had promptly ripped him from his old delivery route and instead replaced it with a thick document labeled _Chthonic Industries_ he had to do a double-take. 

He had heard of the group before. It was one that his father enjoyed complaining about regularly to his family and a few unfortunate shareholders. It was one of two major investment groups that had seemingly been contending with the family business, even predating the founding of Titan Banking Investments, the original parent company started by Zeus father Cronus. The Barley matron's business was one major rival, but they had been quickly pulled into cooperation with Olympus after a marriage between one of his uncles and the owner's daughter. The other major player Chthonic Industries however had managed to keep out of Olympus' influence pool. Zeus had been going on for months about how they couldn't lose in the investment game to his long-time enemy. When he used the term he was smiling, but Hermes didn’t have to be a master linguist to know he was bitter about it.

Hermes had ignored all of it, minus the parts Athena forced him to review during one of their few "sibling bonding' meetings. Honestly who scheduled a meeting with family? He wanted nothing to do with the family politics. He had enough of it growing up.

Getting this new route however was a pleasant change in pace. Suddenly his delivery job became a lot more interesting. They had required the best for this route, and it turned out that was Hermes according to his manager. His record with zero late deliveries and no lost packages was one to boast about after all. 

The Chthonic Industries World Headquarters campus was intimidating, the exterior bordered with thick black iron fencing. It matched the expansiveness of the Mount Olympus Business complex in size Hermes perceived as he quickly scanned his map on his phone. His manager had swiftly uploaded the information onto the company-provided cellphone the moment he had told Hermes he was taking over the route. 

At the heart of the campus was a primary tower. A half-mile out in each of the four cardinal directions from the center looming figure were additional towers. Each building was towering and black - looking very modern against the lush greenery surrounding it. From what he saw on the small screen as he scrolled, there was a private lake on the property as well. It screamed money and excess wealth. 

The wealth he was seeing didn't change his job description. Hermes new route was simple - collect all outgoing mail for the complex, and deliver external packages and letters to each building. He had been given a general ID badge to flash at the entrance, which allowed the gates to open up to access the complex. 

Once the large black gates separated to allow entrance, he drove the mail delivery truck in. The main path from the gate went directly to the heart of the complex, to the enormous central building. From its receiving plaza, there were four offshoot roads connected that appeared to lead through the lush vegetation on the campus to the other structures. 

Upon arrival at the main building, he parked the delivery truck in the designated loading zone. The manager had been very specific about how he was to do this route. His worry in Hermes opinion was unfounded in his opinion, but the turnover record for the route wasn't something he could shake a stick at. If anything, it made him more interested as to why.

He was overtaking for the second delivery person that was deemed too difficult per their picky customer. 

'Third times the charm right?' Herme's hummed internally, glancing at his eyes reflected in the rearview mirror. 

\--

"So you're the new delivery guy right?" A tired-eyed male at reception greeted him as soon as he entered through the main doors. The desk was pushed up against a large wall, decorated with the company logo built intricately out of twisted iron that reminded Hermes vaguely of skeleton hands. It gave him distinct Adams family vibes. The wall split the building onto two hallways proceeding back farther than Hermes could see from his position. The reception desk dwarfed him in size, notably putting the man a few extra feet above the ground. To the left-hand side, he could see a small gate with stairs that led up to the seat where the receptionist was located. 

"Yep, definitely you! Wow those outfits are blinding." The man had a lazy smile peering down at him as he approached. " I'm shocked they found a replacement this quick. They even called ahead of time to tell us. Hopefully, you will last longer!" 

Hermes couldn't tell if the other was mocking him or being honest, but he ignored it either way. 

Bronze eyes observed the other man cautiously. Soft white curls framed an overly exhausted face. It took him a moment to stand from his desk and proceed down the stairs Hermes’ had seen, him slowly fiddling with the gate to let himself out. Off the high desk, Hermes had a better look at him. The man was slightly taller than Hermes, his height around 5'9. His skin was fair, much as he had expected with the rumor mill that the Chthonic members often were referred to as ‘ghostly’. That description however missed the marker. There was a soft radiance to his skin, as if it had never been touched by sunlight. His face was very fey-like, reminding Hermes much of the cherubs in painting that Dionysus enjoyed purchasing during his ‘ancient civilization’ themed parties. 

"Hermes from Psychopomp delivery." He held a hand out that the other shook briefly before releasing and walking past him. 

"Hypnos Chthonic." 

The faint scent of a cologne that Hermes couldn’t place the name of hit his nose. It reminded him of pears and burnt sugar. He moved in step with the other man, proceeding down the hallway to the right. 

"This is HQ where Mother Nyx works. The mailroom is this way. We need you to sort all external correspondence for this building in here- you will see the different mailboxes. In this building, the personal assistants bring the mail up from here." Hypnos' tone was so laid back it caught him off guard. He was wearing a simple red dress shirt with black slacks, nothing fancy. He had not expected someone so modest to be referring to the matron of Chthonic Industries as ‘Mother Nyx’. But honestly, he had no room to talk seeing as his father had been attempting to force him into the family business. But it still caught Hermes off guard. From what he had heard from his family, she wasn't the motherly type. 

He had so many questions but he held his tongue. He would find his answers in time. 

While listening to the others' explanations, Hermes took in the interior. The entire building was filled with what appeared to be black marble flooring, with walls matching in color. Crown molding and pillars in parallel increments were located throughout the wide hall. It was reminding him of the temples of old he had seen in history texts, and the old art his father kept around. It seemed to be a theme with old money. Opulence over practicality.

The mailroom was the opposite - modest but kept with the black on black color scheme. It was located near the end of the hall on the right-hand side. Mounted to the back and left-hand side of the room was a counter with built-in cabinets. Above the counter were countless cubbies, each with a name underneath. In the center of the room, there was a matching island, while the right side held various copy machines, paper shredders, and printers. On top of the center table, there was a tub labeled "outgoing" marked with the Psychopomp logo, already overflowing with letters. It was only Monday, a little past 7 am. 

"We are a 24/7 operation. You should have seen how angry mom was when we let go of the last one! Looks like the contract is riding on you now!" He received a sympathetic look from Hypnos who then gazed over at a clipboard he had carried from the front desk. 

Hermes hadn’t asked what each of his coworkers had done to get thrown off the route. Likely with company policy, he wouldn’t have been able to find out anyway but instantly he was more curious. Every minute he spent on this assignment, the mysteries developed like an overly complex puzzle that Hermes wanted to solve. 

“You can count on me boss!” He offered his signature customer service smile, not allowing the blank look from the other male to throw him off. 

Hypnos lips curled into a tired smile before flipping a page up on the clipboard, gold eyes darting over the page. "Let's see here - oh! The process will be the same for all the buildings but the western. Charon doesn't have a personal assistant, so you need to bring his mail up directly to him." quickly he dug into the pocket of his black slacks to fetch a security FOB similar to a car lock. It was shaped like a skull, with an intricate gold chain attached. He held it out for Hermes to take. 

"This is a key into the Styx building. Very few shades work there so we don't keep it open for visitors. Use it at the security block then take the left side elevator up to the executive office." Hypnos tone was bored reading the instructions before glancing up to give Hermes a lazy smile. "Charon has his outgoing mail on the desk outside his office. Just grab it, leave his mail, and knock on his door. He's usually too occupied. You won't ever see him." Seeming to reach the end of his checklist, Hypnos tucked the clipboard under his left arm then returned his eyes to the other man."So uh yeah! Let's hope you last, Hermes!" He waved his hand in Hermes’ direction before heading out. 

Left alone he hauled the mailbag he had brought in from the truck, setting it on the back countertop. Checking for a third time that the bag was marked for the correct building out of habit, he tried to stamp down the swelling nervousness under his skin. Carefully unbelting the top of the delivery bag he snagged the first letter and sat to work sorting. 

Quickly he got into a flow, and before he knew it he had distributed at least two hundred units of mail. Notably, the most going to the CEO Nyx's mailbox. The mundane task was repetitive, but it was a familiar dance that Hermes had tangled with. His speed was something not even his managers could argue with. He was the rare hard worker in the industry, and the fact he got pulled into this route meant that they needed everything to go perfect. 

Once his bag was unloaded, Hermes began filling it with the outgoing mail. Once that was finished, he checked to make sure nothing else in the room was disturbed, then proceeded out. The entire time he was working it was dead silent, not a single soul outside of Hypnos even running past the open doorway. Normally on deliveries, he would run into at least another employee while he finished his work. Mentally he reminded himself to pack his headphones for his next shift. 

Leaving the mailroom Hermes returned to the main lobby, breezing by reception where he lightly waved to Hypnos, who looked like he was on the brink of falling asleep. Spotting him the other man raised an acknowledging hand, and then Hermes was out of there. 

The next building was to the north. Based on the map he was given, this was for their legal offices. It wasn't surprising an enterprise this big needed its own dedicated legal branch. The receptionist here was a nervous-looking girl with coiled locs styled attractively framing a soft face. Near the back of her head, her hair was clipped in place with a snake charm, giving the illusions her locs were snake tails. It seemed to fit the dark mood that the legal building seemed to have.

Seeing Hermes enter she clapped her hands together, looking more anxious. "Oh! You must be the new mail carrier- the mailroom is on the right!" She spoke, moving as if she was going to get up. 

Hermes waved her off. "The layout is the same as the other building right? No need to move, I'll be in and out in a jiffy." and like that he speedily made his way to a similar mailroom to the one before to repeat the same sorting task. 

He repeated the same process two more times. Each receptionist had bled together after the first two as he had a schedule to keep. He would wave off each one, zooming past to each mailroom to sort, gather, then move on.

Before he knew it, it was almost noon much to his satisfaction. The route supposedly was to take all day, but with Hermes speed, he almost cut the time in half. 

There was just a lot of mail. After the three stops, his return bags were already close to overflowing. General deliveries were separated from the urgent documents. Each urgent piece of mail was scanned and prepped for quick delivery. It was no wonder they needed a dedicated carrier for this one route. It was a neighborhood in itself. The amount of mail that filled his truck was similar to two separate driving routes. Had he not been as fast as he was, he knew conceivably he could miss the 3 pm deadline for their delivery contract. He was starting to understand how his coworker feel behind. It also caused a wave of smugness, seeing as he was almost done. 

Arriving at the west building last, he parked the mail truck in the designated loading zone. His eyes caught sight of a black Bugatti Type 57 parked in the CEO spot of the lot and whistled lowly to himself. He was admiring the beautiful car from a distance. It cost a pretty penny and spoke to the general wealth of the owner. 

He gave the car a last longing look, briefly wondering how fast it could reach, before forcing him to bring his eyes back to the building instead. He was almost done.

Making his way to the entrance he noted there were no handles. The only way a person could tell it was an entryway was the seams that broke up the smooth black finish of the exterior. The front of the building resembled the entrance to a temple, having pillars running parallel on each side, individually being capped with gold accents. Unlike the simplistic but intimidating HQ building, this one screamed customized. The security box to the left-hand side of the front entrance even had gold plating around each corner. 

Carefully he tapped the skull FOB Hypnos had passed him to the security terminal and watched as the seam to the door was brought to life. A soft hum of gears ignited below, and instead of the doors swinging inward as he had expected, one door proceeded down into the flooring, while the other climbed upwards disappeared into the ceiling. 

This just screamed excess money. 

It matched the car nicely. Hermes couldn’t quite place the emotion running through him as he mulled both over, proceeding through the entrance. 

The inside entry was the same size reception area as the previous buildings, however notably it was lacking the large reception desk. The walls were also black, lined with columns of the black marble opulently trimmed with gold. Unlike the other buildings, the lights instead of being overhead, lined the edge of the floor giving off a low honey glow. When the light hit the pillars, the reflection gave off a gold glimmer. 

'Damn, they really blew a lot of cash on this place.' He couldn't help but muse. He let another soft whistle leave his lips, enjoying as the noise reverberated off the sleek surfaces. It looked like that the building had a similar bottom layout as the others- however since no workers roamed this building due to Charon’s privacy levels, he wasn’t worried about being heard. 

Inside it looked like there were no windows on this ground floor, which seemed to fit the image he was starting to build concerning this Charon guy in his head. Some stuffy middle-aged old man with a fetish for old cars, and suppressed himself for years because he couldn't find the right trophy wife. Hermes had seen the type time and time again growing up around his father's business. They loved excessive displays of power and wealth to compensate for other areas of their life. 

Past the empty entry wall, he proceeded down the left hallway. The side held four separate security boxes mounted to walls, two on each side, with seams indicating different rooms were accessible by FOB. Idly, Hermes wondered what stuff the other man kept inside the rooms. However, he had no doubt there were security measures to keep a simple delivery guy from wandering around, so he didn't bother to check and see if the skull would let him in.

At the end of the hallway, there was a glass elevator entrance with another FOB reader. Picking up his pace he reached the end of the hall and tapped the skull to it, prompting the glass to slide open, offering Hermes entrance. 

'He must _really_ hate touching things. Maybe a clean freak?' He rolled his tongue in his mouth, allowing his singular piercing to click against his teeth in thought. Hermes had no doubt the scanners were likely BlueTooth reactive too. He could see the owner only needing to come into proximity for doors to open for their owner. The whole building was sleek and minimalist but screeched an obscene amount of wealth. The cost of the security system alone was that of a yacht. 

Once he crossed the threshold into the elevator it promptly closed and proceeded up, not needing Hermes to select a floor. A pleased shiver ran up his spine as he examined the interior. As expected it was extremely high-tech. He rolled the smooth metal of the skull FOB between his fingers before returning it to his short pocket. He had no doubt the little skull had more to it than met the eye, and another mystery was filed away in his head. 

He moved to the center of the glass elevator, which as it climbed revealed the first windows he had seen in any of the complexes outside of the primary building. As he shot up, to the left he could start seeing the vast property that contained all Chthonic Industries buildings. There was a lake on property that Hermes had spotted driving between the buildings, painting a very picturesque vision from this high up in the tower. 

Finally, it reached the executive sweet judging by the time it took to shoot up. The doors opening up to a modest-looking receptionist room. This room was different from the ground level, having a sturdy set of gigantic dark timber doors, gilded with intricate carvings of what looked like the grim reaper on both sides. Both were ominously perched in a boat that spanned the double door set. Their scythes crossed over in their design, each tipped with gold leafing that glittered, matching the knobs and accents to the door to what Hermes assumed was the executive office. 

To the right side of the room pushed against the wall, there was a desk. Neatly labeled on the top were bins, one for outgoing and one for incoming mail as Hypnos had mentioned in his briefing. 

Stepping into the lobby the scent of a heavy cinnamon musk mixed with the familiar bitter bite of tobacco nipped at his senses, earning a glance over at the set of double doors. He didn’t let it hinder him, immediately making his way to the desk to finish his task. It wasn’t his business what the other man did within his office building. He needed to keep himself out of sight - swift as wind. 

Opening up his mail sack he collected the remaining parcels and proceeded to neatly stack the incoming into their designated bin. To the top of the pile, he set the final piece, a small box marked fragile. Turning away he then shoveled the outgoing into his return bag and made his way over to the set of double doors. This room thankfully had the least amount of outgoing mail he had seen all day.

Hypnos mentioned knocking once he was finished. He had this final step then out of the complex he could speed, drop by work to return his truck, and then zip home for the night. He was itching to do more digging on the group but didn't dare do so while on the job. 

He grinned, mentally patting himself on the back. If this was going to be his new route, hell he was thankful for his coworkers screwing up. Taking a glance at his watch he confirmed the time just a little after 12:30, putting him significantly ahead of the timetable he had been given. The earlier and faster the better - and speed was Hermes’ middle name. 

Stopping in front of the double doors he reached a hand up. He moved to knock only to have his hand meet a much harder impact than expected as the door proceeded to open as he stood before it. The door swung with Hermes located directly in front, the motion shoving his extended arm up and quickly derailed his thoughts. 

The series of events that followed were comical.

Hardwood made an impact with the young male's forehead and arm, giving a resounding knock and sending the delivery boy off balance. His vision temporarily went white as the pain blossomed across his forehead and above his eyes. His ass made a rough impact with the hard marble floor, and a pained groan left his lips. His hands had moved up to grab the impact point of his face, meaning he couldn’t slow his fall overall. 

That was going to bruise. 

His eyes closed and he let out another pained grunt, taking a sharp breath through his nose. His vision bleed with a combination of colors as he tried to get himself together. Out of everything he had been expecting, being smacked by a door was not one. 

A startled if not mildly confused noise left the figure that had opened the door, and Hermes heard the expensive business shoes approach him before he saw them. Quickly his nose was filled with the source of the smokey cinnamon and tobacco scent. It took him a few moments to finally gain control over the searing pain to allow his eyes to open looking up, to get a good look at what he expected was some nasty old man. 

Honey brown met orchid gray, and Hermes felt his breath catch in his throat. 

The man was towering. He was dressed in a custom design three-piece suit with the over jacket hanging over his shoulders casually. Long sleeves were pushed up above his elbows showing off well sculpted and _tattooed_ arms. One had a notable large black shape creeping from the confines of his shirt, though it was hard to examine it in close detail, as his eyes couldn’t focus on one place for too long with how much gold was glittering on the man's form. His hands were covered in rings and a thick gold watch Hermes knew cost more than a sports car, which was now held out to him to offer him aid up. Caressing the lower half of his pale face was an intricate gold mouthpiece, making out the shape of a jagged maw of a skull around his jawbone. His mouth was only partially visible behind the contraption, which lazily had smoke trailing out of it as he gazed down at Hermes with a fine raised eyebrow. His hand not extended outwards had a cigarette lazily held between his thumb and index. His choice of facial decoration had a story to it, something that Hermes instantly wanted to know the reason behind.

Gingerly he took the offered hand, brown eyes processing the man in front of him in less than a split second, registering a few details immediately. First, this wasn’t a nasty old geezer hoarding their money. In fact, this was someone who couldn’t be past his mid-thirties who did very well for himself and was built like a damn sailor. Only he was more mob boss than boatman. The heavy chains that hung from his neck screamed his status that he wasn’t afraid to flaunt, and unlike the old men he was used to - he looked good. So good, Hermes would have doubted he was that high up in position had he not hit him with his office door. Also, his hands were _huge_ , easily hauling Hermes’ small frame up to a standing position. 

Too good. Too big. Every nerve shot from his hand and raced through his body. The large hand was cold like the receptionist Hypnos. Hermes couldn’t help but keep orchid gray eyes locked with his own as he tried to remember how to breathe. Hopefully the other was taking his silence as due to pain rather than catching him shamelessly ogling his new client. 

Realizing just how long he had kept the other’s hand he let it go seeing as it was unprofessional to keep contact for that long and definitely not what he needed to be doing. He had been hit by a door that likely cost more than his whole apartment building, and the man before him had fired two delivery Psychopomps before Hermes. If anything could get him kicked off the route immediately, it would be this for damaging the door with his head. 

A chilling fact. A loss of this job, though it wouldn’t be completely crippling, would really put a damper on his whole independence thing. 

“Sorry about that boss!” Hermes quickly switched to professional mode, smothering the less than work-appropriate thoughts that flooded his brain as he mulled over the man's hand size. He performed for the other man checking over himself quickly, confirming that none of the mail had flown from his bag as he took a tumble down. Once that was done he offered Charon his famous ‘get out of trouble’ smile that Artemis swore could get him out of murder. “Was about to knock, and before you know it, _wham_!" He parroted the action of his fist smacking into the palm of his head for effect. "Had you come out! Normally I am much faster, but looks like you managed to catch me! I’ll make sure to keep out of your hair next time!” He rambled his eyes taking in the face of the imposing man one more time, before turning and darting away towards the elevator to give them both some much-needed space.

He glanced back over his shoulder breifly, eyes running over long white hair similar to that of the head receptionist rivered down his back, pulled into a loose ponytail holder that Hermes couldn’t make the detail out to. It held a natural wave, several locks falling loose of the lazy hold framing a very dangerously handsome face. Eyes were sunk due to what Hermes assumed was many a sleepless night, but the imposing figure sent shivers down his spine in just the right way.

If he wasn’t on the clock and met him in a lot more casual setting, Hermes knew he’d have made some pretty dumb choices to get the man's attention. 

“Left your packages over there my dear associate. Next time I’ll make sure you don’t see me at all!” He reassured the other, sneaking one last look, unexpectedly securing his eyes again. 

He forgot to breathe _again_. Charon's gaze felt like he could see right through Hermes. Catching himself he pushed out a “Thank you very much!” while entering into the elevator, and by the time he fully turned around safe inside, the elevator doors had already closed. He was left seeing a man who hadn't moved from the spot Hermes had left him in, keeping an intense gaze locked in his direction as he slipped out of sight. 

He hadn't said a singular word, and Hermes was oddly okay with that. He could feel the warmth brushing the tips of his ears. 

" _Fuck_."He swore, pressing his back into the black railing of the elevator. 

\--

When he returned to Psychopomp Express loading bay to drop off the mail truck, he didn’t see an angry manager waiting for him. Hopefully, the incident hadn’t managed to get him thrown off the route. After returning his shift gear, he dropped off his truck keys and the skull FOB into his locker. Clocking out, he waved at his coworkers before heading home for the day, climbing into his familiar orange mini cooper. The trip home was short and thankfully there were no surprises. 

Under his skin, his nerves hummed with a static energy he hadn’t felt in a long time. The complex itself had been imposing but Hermes was used to people throwing their money around into their properties; after all, there was the suffocating social status of his father, Olympus was nothing to shake a stick at. Their grandfather had bought a whole mountain for their family after all. He had grown accustomed to it growing up. It wasn't the opulence that stuck with him; instead, it was the west building and the man that had hit him with a door. 

Charon Chthonic. Tall, dark, and mysterious. He stroked every string on Herme's lyre that he hadn't known existed until a large rough hand grasped his own to help him up. 

Unlocking the front door to his one-bedroom apartment he quickly tossed his shoes off and locked the door behind him trying to push down thoughts. Throwing his messenger bag down to the floor at one end of the couch, he let out an exhausted sigh. The couch was pushed off to one side of the room facing a mounted TV. It was very empty, but it was home. Clothing and a few takeout boxers were scattered in a few different places. The kitchen to the back of the apartment was small but functional - Hermes most abused appliance being his microwave. 

In his room, he had a simple setup of a bed, his turtle tank, and a desk where his laptop was located. A far cry from the mess he use to have when living with his dad. 

He promptly deposited himself onto the couch seeking the familiar comfort, fishing out his personal cellphone to start scrolling through his messages and to catch up with the day's activity. Hermes knew when he was trying to distract himself as his mind started buzzing with ideas about the mystery man. His hands moved automatically, snagging the remote from the corner of his well-loved burnt orange Ikea couch. The tail end of the local news channel flicked on, the cheerful anchorwoman reciting the top local stories. Seeking distraction.

He thumbed his way through social media, ignoring the bright red alert on his phone's homepage signaling there were text messages that needed responding.

Once he was satisfied with social media and the buzzing became too great, he gave in to his new curiosity. He opened up the web browser, swiftly typing into the search engine his new marvel. 

“ _Charon Chthonic_ .” He whispered the name like a prayer. 

Hermes had work to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you work in the construction industry you find out that the cost of custom doors is grossly expensive. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this. I have most of the 2nd chapter done, and I'll try to get it out by next Saturday - but don't hold me to it. I'm getting ready to move on the 1st. 
> 
> Next time we enter Charon. 
> 
> Until then, sweet dreams.


End file.
